Triangles
by TheViolaBuddy
Summary: Three heroes from three different worlds, each envying the other two. They come from worlds where triangles are commonplace, and they themselves form another triangle of regretful wishes.


**Triangles**

_I should note first that I not particularly familiar with Ike's original games. I have seen a let's play of Path of Radiance, and I know the concept behind Radiant Dawn, and that's it. Red's game (Red/Blue/FireRed/LeafGreen) and Link's game (Twilight Princess), however, I have both played and completed._

* * *

**Red  
**_Fire – Wisdom – Lances_

My name is Red, but most people just know me as that Pokémon trainer. I don't like to talk; ever since my Deaf father went inexplicably missing one day, I vowed never to speak aloud except when strictly necessary, instead choosing to use Sign Language to communicate. Unfortunately, very few smashers understand Sign Language, and as a result, no one knows who I am.

I know people have wondered about my not speaking. In battle, I call out attacks or encouragements all the time in the heat of the moment, but once the match ends, I go back to being functionally mute. In fact, I am rather embarrassed that I cannot control myself in battle; I do not mean to break my vow of silence just because of a sport. Nevertheless, I've long since given up trying not to shout out in battle; the rush of adrenaline is overwhelming. The fire of battle just riles me up.

But there is one who refuses to speak, just like me, yet is cool and level-headed, even in battle. Link, Hyrule's Hero Chosen by the Gods, never speaks, even in battle, though he is neither deaf nor mute. He remains calm, like a stereotypical grass-type. Yet he is not weak to the fire of the battle around him. He just takes it in stride; even as the battle heats up and tensions flare, the most he'll do is grunt a little in effort. His eyes may show a sort of fierceness, but it's a peaceful kind of intensity, like a quiet meadow on a cloudy day or an imposing forest on a dark night.

I suppose it's normal for a great hero to be accustomed to battle. Unlike me, he's well-known everywhere. With even just a brief glance at his floppy green hat, any of the smashers can recognize it as Link's. But if I leave my red-and-white hat lying around, I'll be lucky if someone finds it even vaguely familiar. No one pays attention to the random kid in the background while they're fighting a six-foot tall fire-breathing dragon-like Pokémon. I can't help but envy Link. He may not be the best fighter among us, but at least he is universally recognized and respected as a great hero, rivaling even Mario.

He speaks only with Sign Language, as well. He's spoken with me in Sign Language on a few occasions—and so have Toon Link and Zelda, his closest friends—but somehow, they always manage to stick with each other instead. I don't blame them for excluding me; they have a long history with each other, and I'm just an awkward outsider, an unwelcome flame that would incinerate their blossoming flower of friendship.

I suppose I should be grateful that at least the six Pokémon smashers understand my signing. Since no one else seems to understand me—or them—I spend almost all my time with them. At least I'm not alone. Still, it hurts that I'm treated as less human than even Fox or Donkey Kong, for at least they can speak aloud in a language that everyone understands. Whether intentionally or not, everyone seems to ignore the kid who chooses not to speak.

To be fair, there is one smasher who seems to take notice of me more than the others: Ike, from Tellius. He's an enigma to me, like the unpredictable currents of the ocean. He often stands near me, observing my interactions with the Pokémon. He doesn't speak Sign Language, however, nor does he try to talk with me aloud. He just stands there observing us, as quiet as a soft rainstorm. It would almost be creepy, except that he tersely apologizes from time to time for stalking us. He makes no further effort to explain his presence, though, and he doesn't seem to find it unusual that a man would watch a kid who's barely a teenager play with his pets. He just stands there, as calm and mysterious as a crystalline lake in a quiet cave.

But even he is well-recognized, unlike me. He's the leader of a group of mercenaries, after all, and even within this Smash Brothers universe, people greet him when they pass by, just as they greet Link. The same people pass me by without comment—or talk instead to my Pokémon, ignoring their trainer. I only manage to just suppress the blaze of annoyance that I feel. After all, I tell myself, it's not really their fault that they don't know you. You're not a knight in shining armor, riding through forests and meadows alike. You're not a savior of a falling country, cascading around the world to calm the flood of attacks that faces your country. You're just a dying ember, the feeble light of a candle trying to outshine the bonfire of heroism that surrounds you.

You're just a nameless Pokémon trainer.

* * *

**Link  
**_Courage – Axes – Grass_

I really can't say that I don't have friends, but in the end, I've always felt lonely. Even when I was growing up in Ordon Village, my age was awkwardly younger than all the adults but older than any of their children. I grew up as the responsible kid on one hand and the courageous older brother figure on the other; never was I an equal. At the time, Ilia, who was noticeably younger than me, and Fado, who was noticeably older than me—and Epona, who was a horse—were as close as I had to friends.

During the Twilight Incident, Zelda and Midna were the closest friends I've ever had—and that's pretty sad, considering that the former only interacted with me by shoving a hero's journey at me and the latter only interacted with me to make fun of me. But at least they didn't patronize me, nor did they hold me up to an unfairly high standard. That was good enough for me.

I am the Bearer of the Triforce of Courage, however. Maybe I'm supposed to have the courage to go on without friends—but honestly, having no friends just makes you lonely, not courageous. Sure, there's this notion of a great hero who braves the entire world and travels across lands and seas all by himself, but that's far more romanticized than the reality of being a hero. Now, in the Smash Brothers universe, I can't help but notice that everyone else seems to have close friends. I rather envy them.

Red, the other smasher who speaks only with Sign Language, seems to have so many Pokémon that he deeply cares for and that care for him in return. The knowledge that they give each other, the stories that they tell, the wisdom they share—I would just feel horrible if I were to intrude on their privacy. Even though I talk to him occasionally, I don't think it'd be wise to break up Red's group of friends. Besides, the Pokémon universe is so peaceful, with battles won by strategy formulated by the trainers. Fighting in their world is a bloodless sport, a thinking man's game with no real danger. I wouldn't want to taint such peace with the fear and the near-death experiences that characterize my life.

Similarly, Ike, the hero from Tellius, also has many comrades. Though they may not be smashers, he spends a lot of time with them. Their bonds of friendship are particularly powerful, since they were forged on the battlefield. Whereas I had to make do with just me and my own weapons (and only occasionally Midna's hair), Ike and his friends lend their strength to each other on a daily basis. They work together, help each other muscle through the difficult times, complement each other's powers and abilities. Their friendship is already so intense—I can't find the heart to bother them, either.

Certainly, I have my own small group of friends in this world—Zelda and Toon Link are also smashers, and even people like Ilia or Midna visit from time to time—but I feel out-of-place even in meetings among these friends. They connect with each other far more than they do with a dauntless green-clad adventurer. I'm the legendary Hero of Hyrule, someone to respect for my courage and derring-do but not to befriend. Even Toon Link places me on a pedestal in this way—after all, I managed to save Hyrule, whereas he could only watch as it flooded.

People respect me, but they don't really _like_ me. I'm not a wise leader, a battle strategist who ensures victory against an opposing team. I'm not a mercenary in forces of a powerful army, seeking revenge for a grave wrong against my country. I'm just a hero shrouded in myth who "bravely" faced down evil alone.

I'm just a legend, not a person.

* * *

**Ike  
**_Swords – Water – Power_

It's amazing, how different Tellius is from the Pokémon world. In Tellius, if a war isn't happening, there's something sinister going on, plotting and scheming in preparation for two countries crossing swords. Armies fight and die for their countries, steel matching steel, brother against brother—or even beast against kin. On a smaller scale, brigands and bandits steal valuables by slashing their owners apart. There's nothing peaceful about our world, nothing honorable. It's just a world of thieves and myrmidons, people who live by the sword.

The Pokémon world is nothing like that, with the Pokémon Trainer being a prime example. He doesn't even have to talk aloud, and his Pokémon can all understand him. I've seen them laugh at jokes that are unknown to me or hug each other in camaraderie. Sure, they argue sometimes, jabbing each other with insults and thrusting their rage at each other. But always, they manage to settle down, their anger tapering out. It's amazing, how close humans in the Pokémon world can be to the beasts of their world, considering the great divide among the beorc and laguz in Tellius, and especially considering the fact that these creatures have dangerous magical abilities surpassing even those of the laguz or the mages of our world. Yet unlike us from Tellius, they all live in harmony, both among themselves and among humans.

The people in their world are just as peaceful as the Pokémon themselves. From what I can tell, despite the futuristic technology—cars, lasers, guns—they all just get along. No wars, no backstabbing, no violent deaths. Almost everyone is a pacifist. The Pokémon Trainer himself does not even participate in the battles that we have here in the Smash Brothers world; he lets his Pokémon do the actual fighting.

It's not just the Pokémon world, though. Link is a pacifist, as well, even if Hyrule is almost as bloody as Tellius. It's not that he's afraid of violence—he's perfectly willing hew you down if you threaten the people he cares about. But given the choice between hacking through enemies and living peacefully on his farm, tending goats, he'd choose the latter without hesitation. He denies being a great fighter. He'd rather whittle away at a wooden carving than cleave his way through a temple, even if he is extremely capable at the latter.

So that just leaves me, Ike, son of Greil, as a truly violent person. It's not that I _like_ violence, either. But as the leader of a group of mercenaries, it's my job to slash at people. I'm even praised for my ability to slice through people effectively, for cutting off wars by ripping apart a king. Not for being a good friend, one who prefers to care for his companions over stabbing people. Not for being a pacifist, one who can easily hack through enemies but would rather live peacefully. I am both of these things, just like the Pokémon Trainer and Link, and yet I'm only known for being a bloodthirsty swordsman.

I'm just known for being violent.

* * *

**Author's note**: This fic, as you might have noticed, is an attempt to use symbolism in my own writing. Each point of view has a triangle of symbols from the original game: Pokémon's starter type triangle (fire/grass/water), The Legend of Zelda's Triforce (Courage/Power/Wisdom), and Fire Emblem's weapon triangle (swords/axes/lances). Within each point of view, I've assigned one symbol to each of the three characters (Red, Link, and Ike). From there, I tried my hand at including appropriate metaphors and similes.

Ike's section was most difficult for me. Aside from my unfamiliarity of his games, the symbols were all weapons, and were difficult to differentiate. The metaphors were therefore almost entirely verbs: swords can slash, lances can stab, and axes can hack. I'm not sure how obvious these metaphors are, especially since the words "lance" and "axe" don't appear at all.

This fic was originally going to be a multi-chaptered work, with imagery building up over time and with the three characters eventually coming together and resolving their desires for recognition, friendship, and peace, respectively. But I quickly ran into a major problem: I had no plot whatsoever. So this fic was condensed to the current three-part oneshot that you see here.

As a random side note, I've noticed quite a few similarities between this fic and other oneshots I've written (A Game of Chess is another fic in which I try to use motifs as symbolism; Defending Peace and Together Forever, No Matter How Long are thematically similar to Ike and Red's sections of this fic, respectively; A Safer Orre is similarly structured in terms of parallel monologues between characters).

* * *

_Published August 18, 2013_


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